


Dandelion Wedding Crowns

by sageclover61



Series: Flowers on the Mountain [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Communication, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gwent (The Witcher), Happy Ending, Healthy Communication, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Lambert (The Witcher), dad!Geralt, fic of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Twenty years after conquering Kaedwen, Redania sought a treaty with the Warlord of the North, and offered with it an arranged marriage.Geralt, the accidental warlord of the north, would very like human nobles to stop doing monstrous things, like marrying off their children. Needless to say, the marriage won’t last. Now if only he could figure out how to help Jaskier and his sisters, too.Inspired by Inex's AW AU and Pallidus'  As long as the sun and moon are above.
Series: Flowers on the Mountain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098962
Comments: 24
Kudos: 370





	Dandelion Wedding Crowns

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With a Conquering Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273713) by [inexplicifics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics). 
  * Inspired by [as long as the sun and the moon are above](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25422484) by [pallidus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallidus/pseuds/pallidus). 



> This didn't really go where I thought it was going to go. All I wanted was some healthy communication and a very neat and a happy ending for Jaskier's sisters. And then my beta, Hyrule, goes, "But what if Jask is a child, too." So maybe this turned into a subversion of the arranged marriage trope, I don't know.

No one really knew what it was like in the Warlord’s lands, why would they? Witchers had always been Other, but now that they had finally revealed their hand and had conquered Kaedwen, those who had always known that Witchers were inhuman monsters felt vindicated by the fact that their warnings all those years should have been heeded.

Jaskier didn’t really have time to worry about what it would be like, married to the White Wolf himself, he was too busy trying to keep his three younger sisters out of sight and out of trouble. It would be better for them this way, he had to believe that.

There was a part of him that knew this wasn’t fair, he was only fifteen and most people wouldn’t have even married their daughters off that young, and he was the heir of a noble house. But his parents were dead and gone, and his cousin had seen fit to use his sisters as pawns in a despicable game, and if he was going to do anything with his life, it was to ensure the safety of his sisters.

So he had volunteered himself when his younger sister was slated to be married off to the White Wolf in exchange for a treaty between Redania and the Warlord.

If only Jaskier could have gotten the wedding delayed until after he came of age at sixteen, he could be certain that his sisters would be safe. As it was, the spouse of someone underage became their guardian, which meant if he knew about his sisters, he’d be in charge of them too.

And all Jaskier had was rumors of what great hungers of flesh these Witchers had.

Would he survive a week? A year? They said there was always snow on the ground in the great fortress in the mountains, would he ever again walk through a grassy meadow? Or would he be condemned to live whatever time he had left within dull gray walls?

The handfasting was supposed to take place outside with only a few witnesses, but at the last moment, it had begun to rain, and Eskel had insisted that it was not fair for Geralt’s very human soon-to-be-husband to have to get married outside in the rain.

Geralt thought it was strange that the humans had made no fuss at all. Had seemed to find it odd, in fact, that it was a Witcher who was objecting for the sake of one of their own. There was something odd about the whole thing, really. None of the Witchers who had worked on the treaty had been introduced to the human who would marry him nor to the woman who had been suggested before an abrupt change.

He didn’t really care where the wedding was held, but he could agree with Eskel that it wasn’t fair that his spouse have anything less than a day as decent as they could make it.

More importantly, having the wedding inside would possibly make it easier for some of the other Witchers to get a good look around the manner and see if they could figure out what was going on. 

Geralt was sharing his suggestion with Eskel and Lambert before the handfasting when Radovid, the highest ranking member of the Redanian nobility in attendance and Crown Prince of the Redanian throne came in, herding a much younger boy in cornflower blue livery.

It had to be a mistake, one of the things they'd changed for the better in their lands was getting rid of child marriages. Yet Redania had found it acceptable to arrange a marriage to him, with a teenager?

There was also no mistaking him as anything other than his promised. Radovid had assured them during the preparations for the wedding that he would escort Julian Alfred Pankratz to the hall himself, and that Julian would bring the handfasting cord the boy was clearly holding.

Eskel and Lambert looked as horrified as he felt, but there was very little they could do now. They needed the rest of the pieces of what was going on in Redania,  _ yesterday,  _ so he dismissed his brothers to go find out what they were missing, and walked towards the Crown Prince.

The Redanian council had assured the Warlord's council that Geralt's betrothed had consented to the match, and the predominant smell from the teenager was not fear or hate or anything like that. The dominant scent was a combination of doubt and worry. Or anxiety and concern.

* * *

"How did we miss this?" Eskel asked the instant he and Lambert were alone in the side hallway. "They're going to marry Geralt to a  _ child _ . Melitele, he can't be much older than Ciri."

"Can't meet the future spouse before the wedding because of tradition  _ my ass. _ They knew we wouldn't go for it if we knew, and now they can use it as an excuse to say we're the monsters when clearly they're the sick fucks marrying off children to men five times their age. They said he  _ consented _ ."

"There's a secret here, a big one. Maybe he's protecting someone?" Eskel sighed. "Let's see what we can find."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Lambert and Eskel had found a nearby locked room with three young girls in it. The room was barely larger than a closet.

The youngest girl was sitting cross-legged on a stool, a very large tome sitting open in her lap, and she seemed to have been reading aloud from it.

The middle child was standing on a stool, and seemed to be using a hair pin as a lockpick on a tall cabinet door.

The eldest was sitting on the floor, playing with a Gwent deck.

Or, that's what they'd been doing, before Lambert had picked the lock, and opened the door. 

The instant after the door was opened, just loudly enough for them to know it was opening so they wouldn't be as startled, the youngest cut off her reading, the middle child plopped down onto the stool so quickly Eskel was concerned she might hurt herself, and the third gathered the cards into her sleeve as quickly as it took to cover them with her sleeve with an impressive sleight of hand.

"Witchers!" the youngest exclaimed- in delight? Odd, most children were scared of them, between Eskel’s scars, and Lambert’s, well,  _ Lambert _ , but this child was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited.

The room was  _ distinctly _ absent of the scent of fear. Musty, in the sense that it was clearly out of use, and also because apparently the most substantial feeling they had been holding was  _ boredom. _

It was strange, because Eskel was sure that they should have been more bothered about being locked in the closet. Children and small places were rarely ever a good combination, especially when there were multiple of them in the same small place.

"That's right," Lambert said, slowly.

The middle sister tilted her head. "You're both wearing wolf medallions, does that mean you're friends with the White Wolf?"

The eldest scoffed. "People at court don't  _ have  _ friends. They have tentative alliances that are convenient in the moment."

Lambert smiled. "He's our older brother, actually."

The little girl seemed to grin even wider, and Eskel wanted to know how that didn't hurt her mouth. "Oh that's just so exciting! That kinda makes us siblings too! Your brother is marrying our brother!"

Eskel's stomach dropped. He turned towards the eldest girl. "I realize we haven't been introduced, but might you be Essi Viscountess de Lettenhove?" This girl, who couldn't possibly be older than Ciri, had been Redania's first idea of suitable spouses for Geralt?

She inclined her head. "And these are my younger sisters. Priscilla and Shani. Pleased to make your acquaintance-?"

"I'm Eskel, and this is my brother Lambert."

Geralt might have gone and changed everything about the lives of Witchers, but the three of them were still as close as they had ever been. Eskel was Geralt's right hand, and unlike what that very clearly might have meant in other courts, Eskel would be loyal to the end of time.

"Do you like Gwent?" The youngest asked, a small deck of cards having appeared in her hands while no one was watching. More sleight of hand, it seemed that they would need to watch their possessions around the girls.

The middle child also revealed a deck of cards, and Eskel found himself wondering where she'd put the hair pin she'd been using as a lockpick.

They were so much like Ciri it hurt.

"I  _ love _ a good game of Gwent," Lambert said, taking a seat on the floor and pulling a deck out from somewhere on his person. "Eskel, won't you join us?"

Eskel pulled out his own deck and joined him on the floor, watching as Essi also brought her deck back out to join them, and all three girls moved closer.

He couldn't help but wonder what Geralt would think, all of them playing Gwent during what most would fantasize as supposed to being the happiest day of a bride or groom's life. But there were so many things wrong with the picture being painted here.

A child being offered up as a spouse for a man several times his age, three more children locked in a closet, where they wouldn’t be able to object or interfere, the oldest of which couldn’t be older than Ciri, and the youngest who would likely require supervision from an actual adult, if only to make sure that she doesn't get hurt. And one man, who had pushed for a marriage at all, to establish a peace treaty, when a simple signing of an agreement would have sufficed.

The picture grew darker with each moment of observation that passed and each sordid detail the children willingly offered.

Eskel wasn't sure how old the youngest was, but she hadn't stopped smelling like excitement from the moment she'd recognized them as Witchers and even more so once she'd decided they were now her brothers.

"Are you kids excited about the wedding?" Eskel asked. He wasn't sure what safe topics to stick to, but he also knew to be careful because the oldest was likely perceptive enough to know if he was digging for something.

Essi shrugged, but Eskel expected that. If she knew enough to know that court alliances were about power, not sentiment, it figured that she would know the same to often be true of arranged marriages.

"It's just like a fairy tale." Shani pretended to swoon, leaning back into Priscilla as she giggled. "Julek's getting married, and he looks really good in all his fancy clothes!"

Essi flinched, and Priscilla tilted her head down far enough that they couldn't see her face, though Eskel could smell blood when she bit her lip.

Eskel wasn’t expecting Priscilla to say anything, but after a moment, she did. “I don’t want Julian to leave us here. Everyone leaves and never comes back. But we've had only Julek since Shani was  _ little. _ He can't  _ leave us. _ ”

If Eskel’s heart hadn’t already been so hurt by what these children were hinting at, this time it shattered. Shani was so little, had no comprehension that her older brother wasn’t old enough for this wedding, or to know that in most cases it would have meant seeing him very little, if ever. But Eskel knew, knew it even before Priscilla had said her fears out loud, that he would not have allowed the children to be separated from their brother if had any power over it. But especially now that he knew that Julian was the only guardian they'd had for several years.

“Hey, Shani, I bet you’re looking forward to your birthday.” He didn’t know a lot about children, but he knew what was the most important thing to Ciri when she’d been little. “How old are you going to be?”

“I’m almost six!” Shani exclaimed. “Julian has to turn sixteen first, two days after Yule. It has a six in it, just like mine is going to! Sixteen is a special number, too!” She counted on her fingers, but Eskel was too busy preventing his face from revealing the maelstrom of emotions churning in his gut. “I’ll turn sixteen in ten birthdays, Eskel! Do you think it’ll still be just as special?”

He wanted to say something, anything, but Eskel was almost certain that he would have thrown up if he’d tried, but Lambert seemed slightly less affected by the stomach churning guilt, because he did manage to ask what would have been Eskel’s next question. “Do you know what’s special about sixteenth birthdays?”

Shani shook her head.

Essi swallowed audibly, drawing some of their attention back to her. Eskel wasn’t sure at first whether or not she was going to answer, but eventually she must have decided that she would. “Sixteen is Redania’s age of majority.”

Lambert nodded then. “That’s right. There’s another question I’ve got for you, though, Essi. Do you happen to know what the age of majority in Kaedwen, and all Witcher controlled territories happens to be?”

The girl shook her head, and Eskel took that moment to chime back in. “Before we took control, it used to be fifteen. Anymore, though, the age of majority is eighteen, and there are no concessions towards marriages including those who are underage.”

“In other words,” Lambert continued then, smiling at the girls. “As soon as we cross the border between Redania and Kaedwen, the marriage is no longer binding in any way.”

Priscilla looked between them, eyes wide, and voice shaking as she quietly spoke. “So what, you’re just going to take him, and that’s it? And what about the treaty? If the marriage isn't binding, is the treaty binding? Or are you just going to invade anyway, and do what you please?”

So that was really what they thought of Witchers, here in Redania. Worse than the worst kinds of monsters. How was Eskel even supposed to run interference on these legitimate concerns?

Eskel was about ready to lead the invasion on Redania right now, because this monstrous behavior on the part of the king, the crown prince, and council was exactly the kind of monstrous behavior that they were morally opposed to, but he couldn’t very well say that, because their idea of what the invasion would look like was vastly different from what it would actually look like, if it came down to it.

For one thing, Witchers did their absolute best not to hurt the innocents in the process. And of course, there was no telling what kind of harm this family of young nobles would come to if they went and called off the wedding right now, and Eskel couldn’t risk that.

Once Julian  _ and  _ his sisters were safely out of Redania, then they could go back to keeping a watchful eye on the goings-on of the country so they could punish any breaches of the treaty quickly and effectively, but if he was being honest with himself, they’d probably be conquering Redania by the end of Spring.

Except Priscilla deserved an answer, a gentle answer that didn't have the girls running from the room and screaming that the Witchers were monsters, and that would take a great care with words. "The treaty required very little in terms of what the arranged marriage requires. Personally, I'm not sure anyone outside the Keep would ever hear that the marriage wasn't legally binding by Kaedweni laws. Most courts have plenty of coming and going, but our Keep isn't really like that. We don't get many outsiders, and fewer outsiders choose to leave, so there's not a lot of gossip happening. Not that it would matter. The only clause that has anything to do with Julian is that he can't return to Redania without Geralt, unless he's on a delegation of a sort. As for the treaty, well, most of it is going to be up to King Vizimir and whether or not he follows it. Breaking the treaty is cause for us to declare war."

"It isn't fair to Julian that the council arranged, in bad faith, for him to be married before reaching his majority even in his own country. That reflects poorly on your King and on his regard for those who should be in his protection. But we won't invade because of that now, because that could put you three and your brother in unnecessary danger, and we don't want that."

Shani pouted. “So we’re not supposed to be excited because it’s not a real wedding, and it’s bad. Why would Julek do it if it’s bad?”

Essi reached over to pull Shani into her lap. “Shani, darling, do you remember that theater troupe you and Jaskier watched perform for the summer solstice, and the play they put on? And the main character needed to hide something, to make sure that he could be safe?”

"It was so exciting!"

Essi nodded, a small smile on her face. “Well, the wedding is just like that play. We need to pretend that the wedding is real, so that we can all be safe, and go somewhere nice after.”

"For Julek?"

“For Julek.”

Priscilla shifted uncomfortably in her impressive court gown. “Do you think the wedding is almost over yet? Cousin Radovid said he’d fetch us before the Wedding Feast starts.”

So it was the Crown Prince who’d locked the children in this unpleasant closet. Eskel added that to the list of reasons he was looking forward to the inevitable invasion. You didn’t fucking lock children up. It was  _ uncalled  _ for.

Eskel closed his eyes, extending his senses to see if he could hear anything outside the room. There didn’t seem to be anyone nearby that he could tell. Fortunately, though, one of the benefits of having a powerful sorceress invested in your kingdom was you could get things like communication spells added to things you carried on your being.

_ “Geralt, Julian Alfred Pankratz, Count de Lettenhove, is only fifteen. Radovid seems to be holding his younger sisters hostages for his good behavior.” _

_ “Fuck.” _ Geralt’s emphatic response was expected.  _ “What do you want me to do? We’re kind of past the point of withdrawing our support to the treaty and marriage. We just finished the handfasting ceremony.” _

_ “Radovid locked his sisters in a closet, we’re keeping them company right now. Let us know when Radovid leaves, he’s supposed to fetch them before the feast.” _

_ “And if he doesn’t?” _

Fuck. Eskel hadn’t considered that possibility. He wasn’t above escorting the girls safely back to their brother, but there was also no way of knowing what kind of trouble that would get them into. They also could leave before noon the next day, leaving far too much opportunity for Radovid to hurt them.

They’d all need a guard to make sure they were safe.

_ “They need a guard,”  _ Eskel said.

_ “Aiden, perhaps?”  _ Lambert suggested.

_ “I’ll let you brief him. Fuck- Radovid looks like he’s headed towards the door, and we’re being escorted to the dining hall. Get out of there and meet us.” _

“I think the wedding must be over,” Eskel said. “It sounds like someone is on their way to fetch you, and we think it’ll be safer for you all if they don’t find out that we were here, else we would escort you to the feast hall.”

Essi nodded. “You’ll have to lock the door. It’ll be Radovid and he’ll know something wrong if he finds the door unlocked.”

Priscilla winced. “We got into so much trouble the time I picked that lock.”

“Lotsa shouting.” Shani nodded in agreement.

These children deserved so many hugs. He hoped they liked it in Kaer Morhen, that they would be happy there.

“Can you tell us how to get to the dining hall from here?” Lambert asked.

Essi thought for a moment, and then rattled off the directions to get where they needed to go. “Be careful,” she said.

“I know it might be scary until you get to the dining hall. Radovid doesn’t know that we know what’s going on, so he might try to intimidate you. I want you three to be brave, be strong, and not let him know anything that’s happening. Do you think you can do that?”

They received three tentative nods.

“It's a secret,” Shani said. Her excitement had faded somewhat, but her scent wasn’t soured by outright fear, which was a bit of a relief. “Radovid’s a meany. I don’t like him. No secrets for Radovid.”

“That’s the spirit.” Essi planted a kiss on Shani’s forehead, and picked up all the Gwent cards off the floor, handing them to Priscilla. “Take the cards, Pris. You’ve got the biggest pockets under there.”

Priscilla sighed, even as she dug through several folds in fabric. “Keep handing me things, and I won’t be able to keep all the stuff I find!” To punctuate this, a very distinct object fell out of a hidden pocket and spun on the floor.

Eskel blinked.  _ He’d absolutely be keeping his possessions close.  _ “Did you steal a Witcher’s medallion?”

Priscilla shrugged, though a sly grin was growing on her face. “I didn’t  _ steal _ anything! I just  _ found _ it!”

_ Uh huh. _ "May I look?" Which unfortunate soul was never going to live this down?

"Sure! But it's mine now, so you can't take it with you." She held it up, but just out of reach.

Eskel supposed that getting it back to its owner could be a task for another day. He was certain he could hear the footsteps getting closer, so they didn't have much time. But they had just enough time for this. "That's fine."

He reached out to touch the medallion, shifting it to see the face. A wolf, which was almost expected. He inhaled the scent of it.  _ Aubry _ .

"Time to go, Eskel," Lambert said, standing up. "Plenty of time to tease Aubry later."

Eskel followed. "We'll see you shortly."

* * *

"Julian, I'd like to introduce you to some members of my council."

Jaskier nodded once. Playing the role of the biddable spouse. Who was he to say no to his husband?

His hand was on the Warlord's elbow, the most comfortable place he could rest it with their wrists still fastened together with the blue and red cord he'd braided for their handfasting.

A leash. He was leashed, collared, and trapped. He had to behave, because not doing so put his sisters in needless danger and he couldn't do that. He had to protect them.

The White Wolf, Warlord of Kaedwen, walked slowly towards where two new Witchers had appeared not far from a wall. It was not easy to tell them all apart, similar medallions, similar eyes, similar scars. But Jaskier was certain these two had only just walked in.

"Julian, may I present my right hand, Eskel, and my brother, Lambert."

His greeting of "Well met," was echoed by them each in turn.

"Your sisters are incredibly resourceful, Julian. I imagine they have you to thank for that?"

_ They knew about his sisters _ . They knew about his sisters, and he had failed to protect them. Eskel Amber-Eyes was smiling, and all he could think was of what threat he was making.

“Geralt, you should ask Aubry where his medallion went next time you see him. Just to make sure.”

Oh  _ fuck.  _ Priscilla. Fuck. He should have known she was gonna get herself into more trouble than he could easily get her out of. Stealing from a Witcher?  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. _

"Husband-?" Fuck. What was he supposed to say? Was he even permitted to speak? He knew it was plenty common in the arranged marriages of Redanian nobles for the wives to mostly be prohibited from speaking in public unless requested.

"Yes, Julian?"

Jaskier would have described the expression on Geralt's as politely indulgent, as the Witcher gently patted the hand on his elbow twice.

He shook his head. He had no words. What could he possibly say? He'd already used every single favor he'd ever curried to protect his sisters, he had no political means left of protecting them. And what was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry my sister stole one of your medallions, please don't hurt her?' Of course he wasn't above begging, but maybe it wouldn't come to that?

“Honestly, Aubry had it coming. Serves him right for trying to take a nap on the job, if you ask me.”

The three witchers shared a small laugh, and Jaskier couldn't help but wonder if they were trying to put him at ease somehow.

He didn't have time to worry about it, however, because at that moment, the large double doors into the great feast hall were thrown open with about as much force as a human could manage.

Radovid had arrived, trailed after by his three younger sisters, as meek and sedate as he had  _ ever seen them. _

What. In. The. Everloving.  _ Fuck.  _

Anger boiled in his gut, and the only thing preventing him from storming over there and parting Radovid's smug and slimy head from his shoulders was the chain around his wrist. If he'd so much as threatened a single hair on their pretty little heads, Melitele  _ help them all. _

"Julek!" Shani shouted from her place behind Priscilla as soon as she'd lifted her head up enough to see him. Court decorum  _ gone _ , she ran towards him, screaming his nickname the whole way.

_ Metitele wept, there were tear streaks on her face. _

Ignoring the existence of the cord, he crouched the instant before Shani ran into him, pulling her into his arms and lifting her up onto his hip, supporting her on his bound side so he could put his free hand behind her head. 

Five years. Five beautiful and glorious years that she had been his. His to love, protect, and cherish. "Hi, Shani," he whispered into her ear as she buried her head into his shoulder and sobbed.

In less than a count of thirty, both Essi and Pris were within his reach, Priscilla grasping at his sleeve with sweaty palms. Like Shani, there were also tear tracks on her face.

Essi, on the other hand, seemed to have maintained her composure, but she had always been the best of them at that. She stood at her full height, refusing to cower. She was so tall, taller than he was. How had he missed her going and growing up on him?

"Shani, more ouchy or more scary, Lovebug?"

Shani keened, a high pitched whine that almost hurt his ears. 

_ Fuck. _ Everyone was staring at them too. Fuck Radovid. "Lord Husband? I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but do you think we could sit down? Do you know where we're supposed to sit? I don't know what the seating arrangement was assigned to be, but can my sisters sit with me, please?" Fuck, he wasn't supposed to be asking for anything, but Pris was seconds from crying again, and he couldn't sooth Shani well with his hand bound. It'd be easier if she was in his lap.

"Of course we can find our seats, and the seating arrangement can always be changed if they weren't assigned to your side. I think I heard they put us near the front, Lambert, could you go check the place cards over there?"

With a nod, the Witcher moved away from them and in the suggested direction.

Radovid purposefully approached them, loudly. Every step he took towards them had Shani shaking harder in his arms and both Pris and Essi were paling.

They were terrified, and he was only less terrified because it was too late for anyone to cancel the marriage. He was no longer Radovid's, not that he truly expected the White Wolf to be any better.

“If you don’t shut your hellions up, I  _ will _ have them removed from this dinner! If they are to be present at court events, they are to act properly!” Radovid was shouting, and Jaskier flinched. Well, that’s why the girls were so upset. Once Radovid started shouting, there was no stopping him, even if the one he was shouting at was a child.

He tried to find the words to tell Radovid to leave them alone, to stop scaring his sisters. Shani had stopped screaming, but only because she was biting her lip hard enough to bleed, shaking with silent sobs as big as she was. 

Before he could find any words though, someone else was already speaking.

“I would appreciate if you refrained from scaring the children.” Geralt was almost growling, though Jaskier couldn’t imagine why he would care. He probably just didn’t want to listen to the whining, didn’t want to be annoyed by children who weren’t controlled properly.

It could technically be argued they were all property of the Warlord now, but it had so far been conveniently forgotten that he was 15 for six more weeks. If they even knew that he was still fifteen. Pissing Radovid off was a pretty good way to make sure he revealed that sooner, and he really had no way of knowing whether the Warlord's court would be better or worse than the known hellscape that was Redania.

One of the other witchers, Eskel, he thought, moved closer to Essi and Priscilla, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, before leaning down to whisper something that he couldn’t quite make out. “Brave…. Little longer,” was all that he could make out, but nothing else. He had no idea as to why the witcher would care to try and comfort his sisters, even though it was clear that he’d met the girls, but there was little time to question it, as Geralt was already leading them away from Radovid, and towards the table Lambert was standing next to.

"We can sit here," Geralt was telling him, once they were standing near the middle of the long side of a table, facing into the hall. They were conveniently by a corner of the wall, so it would have been difficult for anyone to walk up behind them. He even pulled out a chair for him, and gently motioned for him to sit before sitting in his own chair.

Priscilla sat on his other side, pulling her chair as close to him as she could get so she could slouch against his side. Essi sat next to Priscilla, and even her chair was too close to be considered proper. Luckily, no one seemed to mind.

Eskel sat at Geralt's side, which was not a surprise given he was Geralt's right hand, but more surprising was Lambert taking the seat across from Essi and Pris. "You two were so brave," he was practically cooing. "I know Radovid scared you, but I'm so proud of you for staying calm."

“I’m proud of you as well, Julian,” Geralt murmured, and Jaskier froze.

He’d done nothing worth being proud of, he’d spoken out of turn, broken decorum by picking up Shani, and allowing Priscilla to cling to him, and now he was letting her lean against him. That was even before the fact that she had  _ stolen  _ from one of them.  _ He was supposed to keep them under control. At least in public. _

That at least, maybe he could fix. He held his free hand out towards Pris. "The medallion, Pris. It doesn't belong to you." 

She sniffled softly, clearly upset, though it was hard to tell how much was because of being shouted at for who knows how long, and how much was because she’d been caught. She dug through the several hidden pockets within the folds of her dress, pockets that he was starting to regret ever sewing into her outfits, pulling out several items, before finally retrieving the stolen medallion. She dropped it into his hand. "Thank you, darling."

He dropped it onto the table in front of his husband. "I apologize for my sister's theft, would you return this to its owner?" Was this the part where he begged that she not be punished too severely? 

But Geralt merely chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize, it wouldn’t be the first time that a medallion went missing, only to turn up in another’s possession. Some of our trainees even make a game of it, trying to steal various trinkets and belongings from their instructors. It fights off the boredom, and keeps them from worse activities, especially once the winter comes.”

That was practically  _ encouragement. _ He was never going to break his sister's habit now.

“She’s not the only sneaky one,” Lambert was grinning, pointing towards Shani. “Don’t think that I didn’t notice that you managed to beat Eskel at Gwent, Little One. I hope you know that you’re the first to defeat him in a number of years, and that’s a feat that I won’t be letting him live down for a long time.”

Shani giggled softly, looking up at Jaskier, beaming in excitement. “I did it like you showed me! See!”

To Jaskier’s mounting horror, Shani pulled out her Gwent deck, hiding cards and pulling out new ones from the cuffs of her long sleeves. These girls were going to be the death of him. But Geralt and Lambert were both laughing then, as if their antics were to be accepted, and even encouraged.

“Well, why don’t you show me how you do it, Little One? I could use a trick like that when Eskel decides we need to play.”

"I'd love to!" Shani exclaimed, climbing off Jaskier's lap and proceeding to crawl under the table.

Geralt was still chuckling, shaking his head softly while smiling fondly. “It’s been too long since I’ve been forcibly reminded just how silly children can be, especially at that age.”

“They do grow up fast,” Eskel agreed. "Ciri is what, almost 14 now?"

"That's how old Essi is!" Shani climbed up onto Lambert's lap. "Essi's birthday is after mine and just before Midsummer. Seeing the theater troupe was Essi's birthday present, but I don't think that makes sense. Presents are supposed to be toys you can play with."

Everyone was laughing then, and Jaskier was just confused. He’d thought that the witchers would be cold and distant at best, maybe even hostile towards him and the girls. In no way had he ever imagined that they would be willing to sit and entertain the musings of a five year old girl, like they were simply new members of an extended family, or perhaps cousins who they hadn’t seen in several years.

"If you're almost six, Shani, and Essi is thirteen, how old does that make you, Priscilla?" Eskel asked.

"I just turned nine," she mumbled, without moving away from Jaskier's side.

Jaskier regretted that he hadn't been able to make her birthday more special this year. They'd been most of the way through the wedding negotiations, so getting his sisters out of court to celebrate had been difficult. There was also no way of knowing whether he could make it up to her. The possibility of him never seeing them again was still a realistic outcome.

There was a sigh from Geralt, and Jaskier tried to prepare himself for what was coming.

“Are you their guardian, Julian?” 

Fuck. Six weeks. All he'd needed was to get the wedding postponed by  _ six weeks. _ But the world was shattering around him now, and he’d never see his sisters again, because fucking Radovid wanted to rush things. Likely specifically for this very reason. Torturing him mentally  _ was  _ Radovid's favorite thing, after all. And since he was married now…

He felt almost numb as he shook his head. “I was, until tonight, and… due to the terms of the will, their guardianship will transfer.”

To Radovid, or to Geralt. An impossible choice Radovid was forcing  _ him  _ to make. It would have been easy for Radovid to have already revealed that Julian's guardianship had already transferred to Geralt, and with it, the guardianship of the girls.

But he hadn't, meaning that leaving them with Radovid was still on the table. Except, was it really?

Swallowing his emotions, he carefully studied each of his siblings. Shani was grinning from ear to ear from where she was teaching Lambert his favorite sleight of hand. Priscilla was still leaning against him, but she was watching the Witchers, and they hadn't so much as scolded her for  _ stealing from one. _

And Essi- Essi was poise and elegance, she would be a  _ queen  _ someday, but there was just a hint of a smile on her carefully schooled expression, and he thought he knew the answer.

If he left them here with Radovid, he would break their spirits and marry them off with the same indecency as he had given Jaskier or murder them to ensure they couldn't threaten his own heirs positions, and they might never smile again. He couldn't do that to them. He  _ couldn't. _

__ "Lord Husband," Jaskier said slowly, realizing that there was one last question he needed answered. "Who is Ciri?"

Geralt smiled, looking proud. “Ciri is my daughter. I’ve raised her since she was just under a year old, and she's my heir."

The crown princess of the Warlord's lands was the same age as Essi.

"Ciri's always wanted some siblings," Eskel mused. “She’d probably be more than happy to have some new younger sisters, and an older brother.”

"What do you think, Essi?" Jaskier asked. "Do you think you can stand being dethroned as the oldest sister?"

Essi grinned at him. "I would be just  _ delighted _ , Julek. Please don't tease?"

Jaskier felt a small grin growing. “Me?  _ Tease? _ I would never!” At least, not about anything as significant as  _ this _ . "Lord Husband?"

"Yes, Julian? You realize you don't have to keep calling me that, or requesting permission to speak, right? You're not subservient to me."

Jaskier swallowed. He should have known he was going to wear on Geralt's nerves. He had always been too outspoken, he  _ knew  _ that. But this was too important to use anything less than his most important courtly decorum. "They really should have told you this before you signed the treaty. Really, you should always ask a hundred questions about every clause, because they will always try to pull one over on you. They say they'd like to arrange a marriage, but they're usually trying to dispose of a particularly problematic noble. In this particular case, well… technically speaking, I  _ was _ their guardian. By convenience and loopholes if not in actuality. But as per my parents will and by Redanian laws, well, guardianship transferred to you upon the conclusion of our vows. I'm not sixteen yet, I can't even legally claim the house we all grew up in." He swallowed thickly. "These three menaces, guardians of my heart, are yours. Or Radovid's, should you decline to accept them into your household." 

Geralt smiled, nodding softly. “I would be honored to welcome you and your siblings into my home. We have more than enough space, plenty of food, and as Eskel mentioned, my daughter would be more than happy to find herself with new siblings. If you are willing to trust us with your sisters’ care, we will ensure that they are as safe as possible, and they will be treated with the same respect and care as my own daughter.”

There was some protection in this offer. His sisters weren't safe in Radovid's care because they were still threats to the line for the throne. But they were no threat to the warlord's line. At most, wards of another court. The best offer most kingdoms would make was allowing his sisters, or at least Essi, to serve as a lady-in-waiting. But Geralt seemed to be offering more than that.

It was an offer that he couldn’t refuse.

“I accept your offer,” he whispered, even though he couldn’t shake the feeling that all he was doing was choosing the lesser of two evils, at least for the moment.

  
But he was so  _ tired _ . He couldn’t personally keep an eye on them from afar, so at the very least, he’d have an easier time looking after them if they were all under one roof.

* * *

Geralt would be lying if he said that he wasn’t really looking forward to the festivities concluding. It seemed so  _ wrong  _ for everyone to be celebrating something as morally wrong as a child’s marriage. The’d sold one of their own nobles for a treaty that should have included clauses for things like  _ ending  _ child marriage.

Going through this song and dance was hypocritical, really, but there were the legitimate concerns that trying anything tonight would put the children that needed the most protection directly into harm’s way.

The first course had come and gone, but the rest of the Witchers hadn't come to sit down yet, mostly milling around and socializing as much as acceptable. Aubry and Aiden were staying the closest, no more than two tables away from them.

He, Eskel, and Lambert, would have little trouble protecting the four kids, but having a few hands on deck with fewer distractions was a good thing. Aubry's medallion was still on the table next to his plate, and Geralt was looking forward to giving it back. 

He took a moment to admire how calm the children were in the presence of Witchers. Several hours later, and Shani was still chattering away with Lambert about all her favorite tricks for cheating at Gwent, and Lambert was being a very good sport about pretending he didn’t know all of these tricks already.

Maybe some of them were new.

A while ago Priscilla had decided that Julian was being “too boring” and had decided that she was going to sit with Eskel instead. This had eventually evolved into another game of Gwent with Lambert and Shani, once Shani had convinced Lambert to go sit across from Eskel. She had also decided she was going to play on Lambert’s side because she needed to see the skills she was teaching him in action.

Geralt was pretty sure they were gambling.

“Would you like to play with them?” Geralt asked, turning to Julian. He wasn’t sure if Julian had a deck on him, but Geralt had one of his decks, and he was certain any one of the witchers could have found a deck for him to borrow, if he liked. They would probably have to rearrange themselves slightly, with the handfasting cord still binding them together, but he was happy to make it work if it would help him feel even the slightest bit more comfortable.

Geralt wanted the cord gone, because it wasn’t fair for Redania to have decided to literally tie a child to him. Julian deserved significantly more regard than  _ that _ .

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass,” Julian answered. 

He had said very little since his telling Geralt that he and his sisters were considered his property in the eyes of Redania. A few hushed words to his sisters when he had deemed it necessary, but otherwise, not a word.

Julian was scared, and every time he spoke he seemed to come to the conclusion that he was supposed to be even more scared.

With Priscilla in Eskel’s lap, Essi was in the next seat down from Julian, and at some point she had shifted over so that she was in the seat next to Julian. She hadn’t spoken much, but he had heard Essi try to engage Julian in conversation a little bit, with very limited success.

It was upsetting to watch, to see that Julian was still so scared, that he wasn’t willing or able to hold conversion. Sometimes though, he seemed to lightly tap his fingers on the edge of his seat, or the edge of the table, and exactly once, on Essi’s wrist.

It would have been impossible to miss the calluses on Julian’s hands, mostly contained to the tips of his fingers. Geralt supposed they were likely from a hobby, but he couldn’t guess what it may have been, or if it had anything to do with why he was tapping.

Whenever Geralt visibly had his attention on Julian, the teenager would instantly stop moving his fingers with sudden terror, as though afraid Geralt was going to cause him harm for it. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right at all.

It went beyond just fear as a result of the rumors that surrounded witchers, especially those about Geralt. Even that fear was less intense than what Julian was experiencing. No, this had to be a long learned, deeply rooted fear. And whatever the cause of that fear was, it was likely that it would take months, if not years before it would be recovered from.

_ “I think they’re using some kind of nonverbal code,”  _ Eskel whispered into Geralt’s mind, and he nodded so slightly, no one would be able to notice, had they not been looking for it.

_ “It’s not any traditional code I’ve ever seen.” _

_ “They probably came up with it themselves. I’m starting to see a pattern, but without knowing what kind of code it is, or how it’s structured, their secrets are their own. It’s impressive.” _

Geralt was sure that it was, but he wasn’t inclined to try to figure it out further. Whatever it was, it was between Essi and Julian and Geralt didn’t want to interfere because Melitele only knew how little they probably had to themselves, growing up in such a hostile court.

It was far more entertaining to watch a five year old trounce Eskel at Gwent.

The girl was cheating, it was obvious, even if she hadn’t been  _ explaining how _ to Lambert, but there was also legitimate skill behind her strategies, and she had a solid deck. If she were a little older, and could learn how to be less obvious about her cheating, she would be able to make a name for herself at tournaments.

“Eskel, you’re hopeless,” Priscilla said after Eskel lost,  _ yet again _ . “Let’s see if I can help, this is getting boring. Shani can’t win every single time, she gets insufferable.”

They started another round, this time with Priscilla shamelessly helping Eskel cheat as Shani continued helping Lambert.

It was  _ adorable. _

"I think you should fold, Lambert," Shani said eventually, reaching into her sleeve to pull out a card and finding nothing. "I'm out of cards. It's a good surrender, Lambert."

Lambert hummed, before reaching into a pocket, and pulling out his own deck. “True, not every hand is one you can win on, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give it your best.”

Eskel pulled out his own deck. "Sometimes, you have to stack the deck."

The girls’ eyes widened in glee, and Geralt watched as they both thumbed through the decks, grins widening as they saw cards they’d likely only dreamed of before.

It looked like they would have to find more chairs for the annual Gwent Tourney once the winter came.

Geralt caught Julian peeking around him, trying to get a better look at his sisters and the decks they were shuffling through in absolutely  _ glee _ . He smiled at him, hoping it was coming off as friendly. "Julian, I have a deck of Gwent cards you can use if you'd like to play against them." He took it out of his pocket and held it out for Julian to take.

Julian looked between his sisters and the offered deck, but didn't move to take it.

"Won't you play a round or two, Julek?" Shani begged.

"Eskel and Lambert are pretty good, but I still think you're better," Pris said.

Julian chewed gently on the corner of his lip and took the deck and shuffled the deck slowly before flipping it over and thumbing through each card. "Interesting strategy," he said quietly. "It's a nice deck." He turned the deck over and deftly shuffled it. "Politics is a bit like Gwent," he whispered. "Any deck, even a starter deck, has the capability of winning any match, in the hands of the right person. But not every hand is a winning hand, and the house always wins."

He shuffled the deck again, and then a third time, and then he took the top ten cards, counting them verbally, and showcasing that he wasn't cheating by taking any extra cards.

There might have been cards already in the cuffs of his sleeves, but not from Geralt's deck.

"What do you think, Essi?" Julian asked, displaying the cards to her in a flourish.

"Not a spectacular hand, I suppose. But I've seen you pull off more with less."

"I'll have you know, I do some of my best work on a poor hand."

Essi rolled her eyes.

Geralt never got to see the hand Julian was going to play, because Radovid stormed across the room.

The deck of cards was gone in a flourish, shuffled and hidden in Julian's sleeve.

Shani and Priscilla both disappeared under the table, leaving the decks of cards neatly shuffled and stacked beside the plate of the respective owner.

Fear radiated in waves from Julian and Essi, and even stronger from under the table. It made his nose sting and he wished he could end this here and now by stabbing Radovid. But that would set off a full scale war with Redania, and they weren’t prepared for an attack of that scale.

They needed to wait, so when Vizimir or Radovid finally did something unmistakably worthy of being conquered, they could do so with the least amount of bloodshed.

As long as they were mostly left alone, the peasants didn't usually see fit to involve themselves when it was time for them to intervene. It was always stupid nobles and the mages and guards who held allegiance to them. Armies mostly backed down once their kings were very dead.

Aubry and Aiden both moved closer to their table as Radovid stomped in their direction. Aubry approached Julian's side of the table, and Aiden, Lambert's.

Small arms wrapped around one of Geralt’s legs, as a small body leaned against him, looking for comfort. Without hesitation, he reached his free hand down, gently running his fingers through tangled hair in an attempt to soothe the girl. It was unfair that they were so terrified, especially of an adult that they were supposed to be able to trust, but the only thing that kept Geralt from giving the order to keep Radovid from scaring the children ever again was the knowledge that they would never need to see him again, after the night passed, and they were safe in Kaer Morhen.

Another small set of arms wrapped around Geralt’s other leg, and he realized that both small girls had decided to seek comfort and affection. He only had one free hand, but he used it to gently scratch the head of the other child.

That they would turn to a complete stranger for comfort and safety, it was a travesty. Somewhere, someone had failed these children, and if he only had a name, he would move mountain ranges to make sure they received what they deserved for that failure.

Despite Aubrey’s presence at the end of the table, and Lambert sitting across from Eskel, Radovid still decided that towering over Julian by leaning over the table at him was a good idea. His hands on the table and teeth bared made for a particularly intimidating pose, for a human shaped monster.

Immediately, Geralt could see all the witchers in the room reaching for the weapons that they’d hidden away, prepared to act in an instant, should any further threat be made, towards Geralt or any of the children.

There weren’t really enough Witchers here for them to safely conquer Redania today, and he really hoped Radovid wasn’t stupid enough to start something here. The wedding may have been a farce, and invalid the moment they left Redania, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to at least try to make it a reasonably good day for Julian.

He shouldn’t have to remember it as the worst day of his entire life.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you, Julian,” Radovid snarled. “Where are your court manners? You’re acting like a  _ child  _ and shaming us all. Your parents are rolling over in their  _ graves. _ Keep your sisters under control or I will do it for you.”

Geralt couldn’t keep silent. Not when he could  _ feel _ the way both Julian and Essi stiffened, could practically  _ taste _ the absolute terror in the air, so strong it was a miracle he hadn’t choked on it.

“Responsibility for the behavior of my husband and his sisters falls to me, Radovid.” He was growling, barely managing to keep from baring his teeth at the monster in front of him. “As such, it is for me to decide what behaviors are appropriate, and what should be corrected. Not  _ you. _ ” He hated that he needed to refer to Julian that way, to call him husband, though he was still a child, but he’d had no choice. He needed to establish that the children all fell under his authority, and quickly, and there had been no other way to claim Julian.

Tomorrow, he could claim him as a ward, the same as the girls. Tonight, he was forced to claim him as a husband.

"Be that as it may, they are still members of the royal family, and a certain etiquette must be maintained. If you're not up to the challenge these four present as a matching set, I'm sure I can finish arranging a suitable marriage for darling cousin Essi. Didn’t your parents have a spring wedding, Julek?” Radovid had the gall to  _ smile _ , as though he was talking about pleasant weather.

The entire hall seemed to be standing frozen, too afraid to even breathe for fear of missing something. The humans seemed to have come to the conclusion that this was  _ almost  _ enough provocation for him, or perhaps one of the other Witchers, to decide enough was enough at part the blathering idiot with his head.

It was silent, completely silent, as everyone waited to see how Geralt, or perhaps Julian himself, was going to react to the threats. Geralt knew exactly enough about Redania’s customs to know that they were expecting that Geralt himself would announce Essi’s arranged marriage, sometime between now and her 16th birthday. What only a few of the Witchers knew, Redania would no longer be unconquered territory by Essi’s fourteenth birthday, and choosing when and who and if to marry would be up to her, but not before she had reached Kaedwen’s age of majority.

And then there came a tapping. A swift and almost silent tapping that it took Geralt a moment to locate. It was Julian, tapping a precise and unrecognizable pattern onto the inside of Essi’s wrist.

Their scents were still overwhelmingly terrified, but underneath Julian’s terror was something else.  _ Unbridled rage _ .

And then, just as quickly as the tapping had started, it ceased.

Essi inhaled slowly, a long deep breath. “As per our parents' will, signed by King Vezimir, the most legally binding document that currently exists in Redania followed only by our treaty with the Warlord of the North, who you are currently insulting, you are overstepping your capacities. Julian's guardianship of all three of us has transferred to Geralt of Rivia, Warlord of the North and high king of Kaedwen and Caingorn, and until such time that our marriages have occurred or we are of age, whichever comes first, we are  _ not _ to be separated. You are not to arrange a marriage in my name, I am  _ not _ a member of your house." 

Radovid looked furious, glaring at Essi. “Not yet, but you will be. I’ll see to it.” He swore, before storming away, this time leaving the dining hall as a whole.

It was official. The children needed guards, and could not be left alone for a moment, until they were safely through the portal that would take them to Kaer Morhen.

With Radovid gone from the hall, Essi shrunk down into Julian's side, and he wrapped his spare arm around her frame, holding her close. The poor children were  _ shaking _ , clearly expecting some kind of repercussion for daring to speak out of turn against Radovid. That they would be invading and conquering Redania come spring was almost certain now, and Geralt was sure that Radovid would ‘mysteriously’ happen to find himself on the wrong end of a sword.

At Geralt's nod, Aubry took the vacant seat across from Julian and Essi, next to the chair Lambert had vacated earlier. Geralt considered the medallion still sitting next to his plate.

Julian had reacted poorly at first when it had been revealed that Priscilla had gotten her hands on it, but maybe seeing that it going back to its owner with no further repercussions would ease some of their terror. Or at least provide some lighthearted entertainment, at the least.

"Julian, I'd like you to meet Aubry of the School of the Wolf. And over by Lambert we have Aiden of the School of the Cat."

Julian inclined his head politely, but he didn't say anything. He did glance at the medallion on the table, through.

"Pris, Shani, do you feel like coming back up here?" Essi asked.

After a moment, the smaller of the two girls climbed right into Geralt's lap, while the other stayed firmly on the floor, arms around his leg, as she shook her head against his knee.

With the hand still bound to Geralt's, Julian tapped something onto Shani's ankle and she giggled. "Julek!"

Geralt considered asking what Julian had said, and then decided not to. They deserved their secret language. Instead, he lifted the tablecloth up with his free hand so he could see Pris. 

“Priscilla? The owner of the medallion you found is here. Do you want to tell him where you found it? Or do you just want me to return it?” There was a moment of stillness, as if the girl wasn’t quite sure what she should do, or if she would be punished for what she’d done, but after a brief pause, she crawled out from under the table, biting her lip in nervousness. Geralt simply smiled, holding the medallion out towards her. “He’s right there, if you want to return it.”

She seemed to consider this for a moment, before reaching to take the medallion from him and crawling under the table to present it to Aubry. "I'm sorry," she said quietly as he took it.

"That's alright," he said quietly with a small smile.

It was all so much like Ciri all over again. All of them, really. Essi's speech was a little bit more formal than any speaking Ciri had done, but Ciri would be queen someday, and if she had still been in Cintra, they might have been preparing for her arranged marriage, though not to occur before she was of age.

Priscilla and Shani also reminded him of Ciri. Ciri's affectionate nickname hadn't been "Little Menace" for nothing, after all, and she did love a good game of Gwent.

Shani shifted in Geralt's lap until she'd shifted enough for a few strands of Geralt's hair to fall into her mouth. Geralt didn't care enough to move her. He was sure it would lead to another meltdown.

Priscilla climbed up onto Aubry's lap and asked him something, but Geralt wasn't paying attention.

Instead, his focus was directed elsewhere, far from the castle in Redania, towards the mountains in the north, and the other members of his council that he trusted to help him rule.  _ “Yennefer, Triss, can you talk?” _

_ "Aren't you supposed to be busy with your new husband right now?"  _ Yennefer asked.

Geralt winced internally.  _ "Maybe if they hadn't given me a heavily coerced child, we wouldn't be about to have this conversation. But as soon as he and his sisters are out of Redania, it's annulled." _

_ "How old are they?"  _ Triss asked _. _

_ "Julian will be 16 in six weeks, Essi will be 14 next summer, Priscilla recently turned 9, and Shani turns 6 sometime in the spring. They're so scared. The younger two girls seem to have decided that Lambert, Eskel, and Aubry are their best friends. Julian on the other hand seems to have mostly given up on words." _

_ “Fuck,”  _ Yennefer sighed, and Geralt could almost see the way she paced around the room in frustration.  _ “Correct me if I am wrong, but I seem to recall that Julian’s name wasn’t on the original treaty.” _

_ “Geralt, please tell me that the original plan was not for you to marry a 13 year old,” _ Triss begged, but Geralt could only sigh.

_ "She's younger than Ciri, and it seems that Julian is the only noble in Redania willing to protect her. We have cause to conquer Redania now, but I think it should wait until spring. I want these children back in Kaer Morhen as early as possible tomorrow, and I was hoping you two could come early, maybe talk to them?" _

_ “Absolutely,” _ Yennefer agreed immediately, and Geralt had the impression that she was gathering supplies.  _ “Do you know if the children have proper clothing to stay warm?” _

Geralt considered the gowns. He’d already noticed that all three girls were wearing expertly patched garments, but he didn’t know anything about court fashion or seasonal changes to wardrobes. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable to try to find a lady-in-waiting for Ciri, but she was still of a mind to run around in the mud with the trainees, and he was loath to do anything that might stifle her freedom.

Perhaps having sisters from court would at the very least expose Ciri to other opinions and choices.

_ “I don’t know anything about court fashion, and I don’t understand why you think I would have knowledge as to the contents of their wardrobes. The girls are wearing worn out silk dresses that I would hazard to say are mostly hand-me-downs that have seen better days, and are only warm enough today because it is unusually warm today despite the rain. Julian seems to be wearing something new, made of a lightweight silk.” _

There was an exasperated sigh from Yennefer.  _ “I was hoping that you would be smart enough to, perhaps,  _ ask _ the children, but I suppose that was a bit much to expect of you.” _

_ “I haven’t even been able to tell Julian that the wedding is invalid as soon as he crosses a Redanian border.” _

_ “It’s likely that he won’t be able to properly believe you, even after the children are safe in the keep,” _ Triss warned.  _ “I doubt that they’ve been able to properly trust anyone but themselves for many years, and it will take time for them to build that trust with you.” _

_ “I know,”  _ Geralt said. Because that was the truth of it, wasn’t it. For most, the handfasting cord was a metaphor for a long life of shared burdens and emotional attachment. Right now, for Julian, it was unfortunately a literal reminder of what he believed to be the truth of this day. Convincing him otherwise would not be a short road. But they deserved all the time and patience it would take to convince them that they would be safe and well cared for, and not prisoners or hostages of loveless marriages and court nonsense. Even the girls, for as much as they seemed to trust them, didn’t truly have the trust required to convince them.

Instead, it was a combination of high emotions, fear, and what was likely the first true positive attention that they’d experienced in years that was allowing them to trust the witchers, at least for the night. The true test would come in the morning, when the time came for them to leave.

After a moment of consideration, he took in the image that was Shani quietly chewing on his hair, Priscilla chattering animatedly with Aubrey, and Essi still curled against Julian’s side. It was amusing, in that she was clearly taller than Julian, and disheartening because clearly there had been a severe lack of positive adults in their lives, if Julian had been the only one considered their guardian. He studied the scene until he could make the details as clear in his mind as he could, and pushed it through the medallion so that the sorceresses would see what he was seeing. 

_ “They’re so small,” _ Triss whispered.

Sometimes it seemed as though the young trainees at Kaer Morhen could easily eat their weight in food. Yet these four had only politely, delicately, picked at their first course. Actually… the three girls had eaten that way. But Geralt wasn’t certain that Julian had even been served a first course. He couldn’t ask, though. Julian still seemed content to sit in fearful silence, and Geralt didn’t want to seem as though he was forcing him into a position where he had to answer. He’d just have to see if he could get Julian to eat a later course.

* * *

Desire for the feast to finally end, and reluctance to ever leave the hall warred strongly in Jaskier. Shani had been sound asleep in Geralt’s lap by the conclusion of the sixth course, so Geralt had continued holding her while giving their speech before the start of the seventh course, which was also when the handfasting cord was finally removed, and not a moment too soon.

Radovid had also clearly done his absolute best to make sure the feast would be miserable for all of them, even going so far as to short their table on food. He could see how much food the witchers at the other table were each eating, while their own table was barely given enough for just his sisters to get enough, let alone four Witchers too.

The witchers had seemed to make sure that his sisters had enough to eat, and while Geralt had seemed inclined to continue adding food to Jaskier’s plate, he couldn’t really eat. Too nauseated about whatever might be in store for him after the feast was over. There had been no shortage of increasingly fearsome suppositions about how the marriage consummation might go for him. Perhaps a bed warmer, or perhaps a sacrifice to more violent tastes.

All he wanted was for his sisters to be safe, and better him than Essi in this marriage. This way at least, there was still hope of a happy and safe marriage for Essi, once she was  _ of age _ .

By the time the final dessert course came out, Jaskier was completely exhausted, and he wasn’t the only one. Essi was yawning more often than not, Pris had ended up nodding off while leaning against Aubry, and Shani had long past decided that Geralt was the most comfortable surface she’d ever slept on. If he weren’t so wound up, worrying for his future, and the future of his sisters, he would have been mortified, and apologized endlessly for his sisters falling asleep on others, even though they’d both assured him innumerable times that it was alright.

The courses throughout the meal had been endlessly varied and fancy, showcasing the wealth of their nobility. That was no less displayed in the final course.

Despite their inability to  _ not  _ short his table in food, they had managed to correctly count the number of people in the room, as this dish was served in individual portions already allotted for everyone.

In small glass bowls, there was a dollop of a frozen raspberry sorbet decorated with a small decoration of lightly sweetened cream, floating in a few spoonfuls of champagne.

It was a delicacy, and one he could remember enjoying except for the fact that he’d eaten it last at the funeral dinner for his mother and everything he’d eaten that night had tasted like ash.

“Julek, I don’t wanna eat it,” Essi mumbled, looking as if she would be sick.

He felt the same way, if they were being honest, he thought as the servants carefully put the decorative treat in front of each of them at the table. Even one for Shani, next to the one for Geralt, and one for Priscilla, beside the one for Aubry. One for each witcher, in a care that seemed to far surpass any other consideration spent on them this entire day.

Not for the reasons any of them probably thought, Jaskier decided, casting a glance at where Radovid had finally sat, and was clearly gloating at him.

“I don’t understand what this is,” Lambert said, poking his dessert with a spoon as though it might bite him. “It smells like raspberries and that cheap as fuck alcohol that tastes like bloody roses. Roses aren’t  _ food _ .”

Jaskier could almost force himself to imagine a confused witcher trying to eat a bouquet of roses, petals and thorns all. It was almost an image that could bring back his fake smile, the one that was supposed to be hiding the fact that he felt like he was dying.

He lifted his dessert spoon, and carefully refrained from stirring the dessert into a wet slush like he really wanted to. He took the first bite. “Just  _ decadent _ .” He hadn’t spoken in what felt like hours, not since he’d given up on apologizing for his sisters falling asleep.

The dessert tasted like snow and ash. It tasted like his tears at his mother’s funeral, with Radovid screaming at the four of them that they were all alone in the world.

Jaskier took a second bite. It burned like all the meals he’d scarfed down without waiting for them too cool because he’d been so hungry he thought he would die.

The third bite was the ice of his heart freezing and shattering at the news that Essi was engaged to marry the white wolf of the snowy north. The breaking of his  _ soul  _ that Radovid had found a loophole big enough to prevent him from ever seeing the light of his life again.

He couldn’t taste the fourth and final bite. He was numb to it. It had been the beginning of the end, and the end. He had won, insomuch as he would not be separated from his sisters just yet, but he had lost all the same. It had been inevitable.

The house always won.

* * *

Geralt didn’t understand why this frankly disgusting half frozen pink snow treat covered in a rose alcohol was capable of making Julian’s scent shift from what had seemed like a permanent half fear, until it had become the strongest scent of heartbreak that he had ever scented. He didn’t understand.

Essi had taken a single bite despite her insistence that she really didn’t want to, and had promptly lost what was left of her composure.

"Eskel?" Geralt asked low enough the humans wouldn't be disturbed but the Witchers would all hear him. "Do you know anything about this delicacy?"

They'd all tasted it, since that had seemed like the most reasonable thing to do if this was the one dish deemed important enough to remember to give it to everyone including them, but that wasn't really an explanation.

"My understanding is that the last course is a dessert selected because it has specific emotional significance to the spouse being given away to another. I suspect Radovid followed the letter and not the spirit. You should probably finish yours. It's considered an especially bad omen not to." 

Geralt frowned. He didn’t like it when he had to play along with a supposed omen, especially when it was clearly causing so much upset for the children. He could see Lambert sneaking around the table, coming to kneel next to Essi’s chair, and quietly asking her what was wrong.

The girl sniffled, leaning towards Lambert as she whispered. "This was what they gave us when mom died. You're always supposed to eat all of the last course, it's served as too small a portion to fill you intentionally. It makes sure you form an emotional connection to the memories of the important events in your own life, and for every family it's a different dessert. This one was served at our parents' wedding, and our introductions to court, and our parents' funerals. It would have been acceptable for Julek to pick a different course for tonight, but Radovid said no."

Geralt closed his eyes, sighing as he tried not to explode. They couldn’t invade tonight, the children needed to be removed first. If too much more happened though, the invasion would be happening far sooner than the current loose plan would suggest.

It was far later than any reasonable hour for children to be in bed, and still later than an hour that even Witchers often retired to bed, even if sleep wouldn't come for a while.

"Julian," Geralt said quietly. "Is now an acceptable time to escort your sisters to bed?"

Julian looked around the table and then motioned to Geralt's half full bowl of final dessert. But he didn't say anything, as though unsure how or if he should try to ask him to finish it.

Geralt took the hint for what it was and finished the dessert in two bites. Waiting a moment to make sure that there was nothing else that would be needed, he stood, addressing the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming tonight, and celebrating this joyous occasion," he started, trying not to let his true feelings on the matter show. "We will be retiring for the evening, as we have a great distance to travel come morning.”

Barely a moment later, Julian and Essi both staggered out of their chairs so they could all head out of the hall. Aubry followed, still carrying the soundly sleeping Priscilla,while Eskel, Lambert, and Aiden followed them from a further distance so Julian and Essi wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.

* * *

Every step closer to the girls’ chambers felt like one step closer to death. Aubry and the White Wolf were carrying his sisters so delicately that he could  _ almost  _ believe that maybe he wouldn’t be hurt, but it was hard to believe that himself when it was so clear to him that even his own people weren’t convinced he wouldn’t survive the night.

Funeral fare for the happy couple was  _ not  _ a good omen.

"Which rooms are yours?" Geralt asked quietly, and Jaskeir pointed down the hall.

"Just over there," he murmured, fighting back a yawn. "The door next to the painting leads into our chambers. Inside, our rooms adjoin from the sitting room.”

He unlocked the door to the room his sisters shared and then turned towards Geralt. “Can I take her from you?” he asked, nodding towards Shani. Shani and Priscilla slept like the dead, he’d have to get them out of their dresses and into their night clothing, but it was unlikely to disturb them.

* * *

Jaskier took a moment to appreciate the soundly sleeping forms of his three sisters. He and Essi had gotten them changed and put to bed while the Witchers had waited in their sitting room, and then he had Essi had changed as well.

Essi had fallen asleep the moment she had laid down, and Jaskier envied her that freedom. His sisters would be traveling with them to Kaer Morhen, what he hoped would be the safer choice than leaving them behind, and he did not know if he would sleep.

“We need to talk,” Geralt said when he had returned to the sitting room he had left the Witchers in. “Lambert and Eskel were able to talk to your sisters about this, but we haven’t been free to talk.”

Free to talk about what? What could they have possibly wanted to talk to his sisters about? They had seemed surprisingly friendly at dinner, they never treated strangers so fondly, but they also hadn’t seemed especially frightened, as though they’d been threatened.

“The marriage is invalid as soon as you leave Redanian soil,” Eskel said. “Annulled, cancelled, as though it never existed.”

HIs heart sank. The White Wolf was going to marry Essi after all, because it must have been a gender thing. He supposed it was only luck they hadn’t rejected it outright as soon as his name had been put forth, as Radovid had expected.

It wasn’t known that Geralt had an heir Essi’s age, but it had been expected that the White Wolf might like a young consort who could bear him an heir.

“Not for that reason, Julian,” Lambert cut in. “In Kaedwen and all the lands belonging to the Warlord, marriage is not permitted to occur before all parties are over the age of eighteen. Marriages of individuals under eighteen that take place outside of our lands, between residents of our lands and those from outside it, are automatically dissolved upon returning. Geralt can’t marry Essi any more than he can marry you.”

Jaskier swallowed. That had to be too good to be true. It had to be. "What about the treaty? Why would you just take the four of us with you if you don't have to? What's in it for you?"

Geralt shook his head, to Jaskier’s confusion. “We seek nothing from this treaty. It is little more than a formality, stating that we had no prior intent of invading Redania, and that as long as certain conditions were met, and others were not, we would not seek to invade and conquer. One of those conditions required that the act decided upon in order to finalize the treaty, in this case, the wedding, was an act of good faith between all parties.”

Eskel nodded then, continuing where Geralt had paused. “Good faith, in relation to the wedding, meant that both parties,” he indicated towards both Geralt and Jaskier, “Are in full, uncoerced agreement that the wedding should take place, are both above legal age in  _ both _ provinces, and would have no objections, had the wedding been for any other reason than the final act required of a treaty.”

“And all of those terms were broken, Julian.” Lambert’s voice was soft, almost reminding Jaskier of his father. “You’re underage, within both Kaedwen and Redania, we know that Essi was supposed to be the one marrying Geralt, and you took her place, that Radovid has been threatening your sisters, and you’ve been terrified all night. Any one of those things would be enough to nullify not just the marriage, but the entire  _ treaty _ .”

“That doesn’t explain why we’re here, having this discussion,” Jaskier said. “Why if Redania went into the treaty negotiations in such a grievous bad faith effort, you’re still here, and not already conquering us.” He frowned. “Or is that why you’re here, in this room?”

“It’s because of you four.” Eskel sighed, guestering towards the room where the girls lay asleep. “We don’t have enough witchers with us tonight to launch a full invasion, and even if we did, there would be no guarantee that we would be able to keep you and your sisters safe. Best to play along, and make sure that you all are safe, and return at another date with more witchers, who could help make sure that as few innocents are harmed as possible.”

“But why do you care about us?” Jaskier asked. “We’re just children, noble children from a court that has given you and your treaty far less than the respect that it deserves. You’ve said you’re happy to have the four of us accompany you to your home, exiting Redania soil and seeing the marriage annulled as if it was never written, all bonds that might have existed to my sisters as extended family,  _ severed _ . So why do you care about taking all of us with you? Or, perhaps more appropriately, what favor can we possibly offer that can settle the debt of saddling yourselves with us?”

“There’s no debt for doing the right thing. You wouldn’t be safe, left here with Radovid, would you? He seems like the kind of person who would take it out of your hide if he found out the truth, even though the responsibility is entirely his own.” Lambert shook his head. “This isn’t the first time we’ve used Kaedwen’s new age of majority to help people escape bad situations. You’re not even the first humans to be able to seek sanctuary in Kaer Morhen. Eskel also wasn’t lying about Ciri wanting siblings.”

“I would introduce you to my court as my wards,” Geralt explained. “It doesn’t mean much more than that you would be under my protection. Everyone living in the keep is well clothed and fed, but it would be a more official adding of you to my household. We don’t do arranged marriages in our lands, nor do we permit the harming of children. You marry whoever you want, whenever you want to, if you even want to, as long as both parties are consenting adults. No arranged marriages for you. No arranged marriages for your sisters.”

There was no way this wasn’t all too good to be true.

How could there be no debt for being offered so much freedom?

"We'll leave you to think about it," Eskel said. "I wish you a good evening."

Jaskier nodded. "Wait. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I can see that in writing? I understand the Redanian treaty was written in bad faith, that it's only your benevolence that you've delayed attacking Redania thus far. But I'd like to see it in writing that no harm will come to my sisters on Kaedwen or Kaer Morhen soil." 

“We can have that for you before we leave tomorrow,” Geralt said. “If you need anything tonight, I’m going to have Lambert, Aubry, and Aidan guard this hallway out here, in case Radovid tries anything to hurt you or your sisters. Goodnight, Julian.”

“Goodnight.”

With that, the witchers exited Jaskier’s sitting room, leaving him staring at the closed door and wondering just how much they were going to make him live to regret this.

He hoped it wasn’t too much to ask that they would uphold whatever contract they came up with. They hadn’t seemed the kind of leaders to renege on this kind of a promise, though.

With a sigh, Jaskier paced the sitting room. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not when he was so anxious about how the morning would go.

* * *

Jaskier and his sisters ate breakfast alone in their sitting room. He had finally passed out on the sofa in the sitting room around dawn, so it was no surprise that he was exhausted. His sisters also seemed to have slept poorly, Shani and Priscilla both on the verges of temper tantrums. Essi wasn’t spared from poor sleep either, as she was falling asleep in the chair she was sitting in.

The meal was a quiet one. Jaskier was almost certain that it was inevitable that Shani was going to start crying, and he was almost certain that he would join in.

Once they’d picked at their breakfast for long enough, none of them having much of an appetite, it was time to try to pack.

Jaskier started by finding everyone’s heaviest cloaks. If it was true that there was perpetual snowfall in Kaer Morhen, that suggested that it was going to be cold. Priscilla had been given his cloak as her birthday present because the one she’d had before that had been completely destroyed by an unfortunate run in with a tree.

All of their clothing was mostly worn out, if he was being honest. Most of their servants had been loyal to Radovid, not to their parents, so a lot of the things they needed had fallen to him to procure, and he had been so busy all the time with other responsibilities that he’d mostly fallen on patching everything as much as he could, and outfitting the younger girls in their older sisters’ hand-me-downs whenever possible.

“Jask,” Essi called out in dismay. Her cloak had torn into two pieces when she’d fetched it from the bottom of her clothing chest.

Jaskier winced. They didn’t really have enough time for him to sit and sew it back together, and there was no guarantee that it would fit her once he was done. It had been almost too small the previous winter when he’d found it for her and taken her old cloak, which was now Priscilla’s.

Shani had two layers of cloak. Her own cloak, a hand-me-down, passed down to each of them enough that Jaskier was pretty sure his father had bought it for him. It had many patched thin spots, which was why he’d decided to do what he could with Priscilla’s worn out cloak. Shani could grow into it and still be warm enough in the meantime.

Except that left both him and Essi without cloaks, and that was unacceptable.

So where was he going to find a cloak for his sister to wear? Maybe there was something in the box under his bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, before retrieving the box.

Jaskier didn’t open the box until he’d put it on Essi’s bed, and Shani and Priscilla both joined him to see what was inside it.

“I think these were Mom and Dad’s things,” he said quietly, pulling the lid off the box. “A lot of things went missing, but I hid this one box under my bed for when you were older. I guess today is as good a day as any to look inside.”

The item sitting on the top of the wooden box was made of scarlet wool. Jaskier delicately unfolded it and held it up, pleased that it was what he had hoped to find.

"Mother's cloak," Essi gasped, reaching out to touch the front of it.

"Try it on," Jaskier insisted, unfastening the buttercup shaped clasps in the front so he could set it around her shoulders.

The cloak looked as though it could have been brand new. It was made of a high quality wool and dyed scarlet, with silver buttercups embroidered along the hem and up the front.

"It's so  _ warm _ ," she said as she carefully fastened the clasps. "Warmest cloak I've ever tried on. Jask, are you sure you don't want to wear it?"

It was clearly made for someone larger than Essi, but it didn't quite reach the floor, so she wouldn't trip over it, and it wasn't falling off her.

He shook his head. "You need it more than I do." He could get by without a cloak for now. If he needed one in the keep, maybe he could make one if it came down to it.

"Julek! Look!"

Jaskier turned as Shani pulled something out of the box and waved it.

It seemed to be a headband with metal and gemstone buttercups affixed to it. He watched with an amused expression as she put it on.

Further exploration of the box turned up a pair of buttercup hairpins for Priscilla that she insisted would make good lockpicks, and a necklace and pair of earrings for Essi, also adorning the same silver buttercups. There was also a matching letter opener, which he claimed. Mostly because his sisters had lost interest in the box.

"Are you sure you don't want the cloak?" Essi asked when Jaskier was sitting with the last item in the box, a wax sealed envelope with his name on it, sealed by his own family's signet.

Julian Alfred Pankratz, familiary, Jaskier.

He shook his head and cut the envelope open to reveal the letter inside.

"Did Mom write that?" Priscilla asked. She sat down next to him and looked over his shoulder at it.

"Julek, read it out loud!" Shani sat down on the floor, leaning against his leg.

  
  


"Dearest Julek,

I wish I could have told you one last time that you are so loved. That I could say it again to Essi, and Priscilla, and that Shani will remember what it was like to be held and loved by a mother who wanted her as much as I do.

In another lifetime, we could have sent you to Oxenfurt as you desired, and you would have made a wonderful bard. You may not remember this, but music and a hint of foresight run through your veins.

That's why I can apologize for the hell Radovid put you four through yesterday, and has since even now. I'm so sorry, my darlings. An arranged marriage for my teenagers was not what I wanted for you, even if it was a performance to protect you and even though the Warlord is the best man you'll ever meet. A king who did not set out to be a king, but merely wanted to be rid of the monsters who prey on peasants and children, even if they're human monsters.

Mommy loves you, Shani, Priscilla, Essi. Please remember that, if nothing else."

There was more at the bottom, in a smaller script, but Jaskier was certain it wasn't there for him to read aloud. Not if his mother had known he would be reading out loud and had intentionally made the second part different so he wouldn't. 

_ Witchers do not lie, Julek. Witchers do not lie, and Radovid is poison. Your father died on his hunting party, and I am dying in my own home. _

_ But you are loved, Julek. You are loved, and your sisters are loved. Goodbye, my darling Buttercup. _

_ With much love, _

_ Lady Cassandra, Countess de Lettenhove  _

  
  


He carefully folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. Voice tight, he said, "We need to finish packing." 

* * *

Shani started wailing when Jaskier tried to wrangle her into her cloaks.

She was too hot, and too cold, and she wanted her toy wolf and she wanted a mom she didn't remember to hold her.

"I don’t wanna go!" she screamed at Jaskier and Essi from the floor. “I don’t wanna!”

"I know, I'm sorry," Jaskier said, holding back his own tears. "Can I sit on the floor with you anyway?"

Shani seemed to find this permissible, but she continued sobbing anyway.

Essi finished getting Priscilla into her cloak, and then braided her hair. By the time they were done, Shani had crawled into Jaskier's lap and they were both weeping. 

* * *

Essi slipped quietly into the hallway. Jaskier and Shani were still inconsolable, weeping on the floor, and Priscilla had joined them.

She might have joined them, but she was sure they were supposed to be hurrying up so the Witchers didn't have to wait on them.

Aubry was the only Witcher still in the hallway, and he was quietly talking to two women Essi didn't recognize.

They had to be the Warlord's court mages, their ethereal beauty something that was only magicked for graduates of Aretuza.

"Good morning, Essi," Aubry said when she closed the door. "Are your siblings all right in there?"

"Shani's had a bit of a rough morning," Essi answered. "And Julek didn't sleep last night, so a meltdown was to be expected."

"That's a lovely cloak, Essi," the brown haired sorceress said.

"Thank you." She smiled. "Mine's in pieces so Julek found me this one. It was Mama's."

"Essi, meet Triss and Yennefer, our court mages." 

"Pleased to meet you," Essi said with a curtsy.

"Would it be alright if we checked on your siblings?" Yennefer asked. "Triss is a healer, and I wanted to make sure you all have heavy cloaks. It started snowing in the Kaer yesterday."

Essi realized that both sorceresses were wearing heavy cloaks. Yennefer's was the most thorough black she'd ever seen in a dye, and Triss' was a more neutral brown. "Okay."

She turned and led the way back into their quarters.

Jaskier and their sisters were still sobbing on the floor.

* * *

Yennefer's heart ached for the young children in the room. Geralt's decision to bring them all home really was for the best, their country had failed them so badly.

"Good morning," she said quietly. She didn't want to startle them, but she figured it was the best option so at least Julian would know she was there.

Julian wiped his face and shifted Shani so he could see Yennefer. He blinked at her. "I remember you," he said quietly. "You came to visit Mama before Essi was born."

"That's right,” she said. “I’m surprised you remember that, you were what, almost three?”

It had been an interesting trip, to say the least. Lady Cassandra’s family had always had just a bit of foresight magic, and she’d wanted some insight when Julian had insisted on calling the unborn child by the wrong name for months. “Is this the lovely Shani that I heard so much about?”

He nodded. “Shani, Darling. Can you say hello to Yennefer? She’s Geralt’s court mage.”

The red haired child, the spitting image of her mother, turned her head to look at her and Triss. She seemed to be wearing two worn out cloaks, and Yennefer really hoped she was going to be warm enough. Her face was splotchy and red from crying, but she seemed to have worn herself out. “Yenna,” she mumbled quietly, resting her head down on Julian’s shoulder.

“I wanted to see if you kids needed any help finishing your packing,” she said.

Julian motioned to a single chest that had been moved towards the middle of the room. “Is that alright? Or should we try to pack lighter? I’m sure we can pack lighter if we need to.”

“You’ve packed just fine,” Yennefer assured him. “It would have been fine if there’d been a chest for each of you. Have any of you forgotten anything you’re going to want to take with you?”

He shook his head. “That’s everything.”

“Then I think it’s time to go,” she said. “Aubry can bring the chest. Eskel and Geralt are waiting for you outside, with the contract you asked them for. They wanted to make sure you could make any changes to it before we leave, if you need to.”

She was pleased by the amount of spine he’d shown in asking for such a document. He didn’t know Geralt like she did. Didn’t know that Witchers took their word more seriously than any other. If he needed a written document to assure himself that what they’d told him was true, that no harm would come to him or his sisters, they were happy to write that out for him. It wasn’t quite a treaty, it was simply a written promise of guardianship and protections as long as they needed and wanted them.

* * *

Jaskier walked down to the courtyard with Shani on his hip. She hadn’t wanted to be let down, and that was fine. His sisters, the sorceresses, and the rest of the Witchers didn’t seem to be too far behind him.

“Good morning,” he said when he was close enough for Geralt and Eskel to glance in his direction.

“I have the document you asked for here,” Eskel said. He was holding the parchment on a book with a quill nearby. “If you think there’s anything missing, we can see about changing it now.”

“Ger’lt!” Shani exclaimed, holding her arms out towards him to be held.

With an indulgent smile, Geralt took the child from him so he could take the parchment and the surface it was on from Eskel.

The written promise offered significantly more than Jaskier had been expecting from it, and it was almost enough to have him crying again. In addition to protection for his three sisters, it also offered him the same protections. It was also interesting because it didn’t try to suggest that any of the offered services would end once any of them, or Shani, reached the legal age of adulthood. They would have what they needed for as long as they lived in Kaer Morhen, even if that was the rest of their lives, and if they did choose to leave Kaer Morhen, which they would be free to do at any point in time, they would have access to whatever resources they needed to be able to support themselves wherever they chose to move on to.

It was as impressive as it was perfect.

“Thank you for this,” he said, reaching for the quill so he could sign it. “Is that it then?”.

Eskel nodded, taking the items back. “That’s everything. Are you ready to go? This is your last chance to back out until Winter’s over. We can always come to another arrangement if this isn’t what you want.”

Jaskier nodded. “We have nowhere else to go, and nothing tying us here anymore.”

“As long as you’re certain, then we can leave.” Geralt spoke, nodding towards Yennefer and Triss, who moved to the side.

Priss ran up to Eskel then, tugging at the witcher’s tunic to grab his attention. “When are we gonna meet Ciri?”

Though he was still worried that she would be pushed away, he was relieved to see Eskel smile down at her. “She knows we’re coming, so she’s not going to let us just sneak in without her knowledge. You’ll probably meet her within a few minutes of walking through that portal.”

Priss grinned, before sprinting over towards where Yennefer and Triss had finished casting the spell to open the portal that would take them to their new home.

Essi reached out for his hand, and he held it tightly as they walked towards the portal. Whatever would come on the other side of the portal, they would face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned for the first half to be in Redania and the second half of the story to take place in Kaer Morhen, but I haven't decided yet whether or not I'm going to write Jaskier's experiences living in Kaer Morhen with his sisters. If I do write more, it will be posted to the series this is in as a sequel.


End file.
